


warming the webs of electricity

by wariangle



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/F, Moving In Together, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7179737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wariangle/pseuds/wariangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root turns to smile at her. “I knew you’d like it, sweetie. Wanna move in?” She says it as a joke, to push at Shaw the way she can never help but do, and all she expects in response is Shaw’s copyrighted eye-roll and an impatient groan.</p><p>So when Shaw turns her back to her and mutters, “Okay,” it’s all Root can do not to fall out the window in surprise.</p><p>-</p><p>After the war is over, Root buys an apartment. Shaw moves in. Somehow, it works out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	warming the webs of electricity

One of the first things Root does when it is all over is to buy an apartment. Nothing too big or flashy, but a place she can call home. It’s downtown, in a beautiful industrial building with big windows and warm, red brick walls.

“The Machine helped picked it out,” Root tells Shaw when she brings her over to see it the day after she’s signed the contract. It’s still just the bare bones of a home, all empty walls and stretches of polished floors. It’s a beginning.

“Windows on both sides,” Shaw says. “This place would be hell to defend.”

“All that’s in the past, Sameen,” Root reminds her. She draws a hand along the windowsill, imagines it leaden with plants, long, white curtains dropping past it. “I like the light. And at least I have the top floor.”

Shaw gives an all but non-existent nod. “I guess it could be worse. One step up from the subway, at least.”

Root turns to smile at her. “I knew you’d like it, sweetie. Wanna move in?” She says it as a joke, to push at Shaw the way she can never help but do, and all she expects in response is Shaw’s copyrighted eye-roll and an impatient groan.

So when Shaw turns her back to her and mutters, “Okay,” it’s all Root can do not to fall out the window in surprise.

 

“We’re not getting this crap,” Shaw says and rips the three sets of lilac beddings Root’s picked out of their cart. Instead, she grabs three sets of grey sheets and two black ones, glaring at Root while she drops them in the cart like she dares her to say something.

They’re at Bed, Bath and Beyond to get some necessary essentials for the apartment (“Why don’t you just get your desktop god to order it all online?” Shaw had complained, more than once), and all other customers are already giving them a wide berth, one middle-age woman sending Shaw uneasy glances from behind the relative safety of the pillow section.

“Whatever you want, darlin’. We’ll just wear them out anyway,” Root says innocently and drops a garish shower curtain into the cart. Shaw scowls and swiftly replaces it with a plain white one.

“You’re just doing that because you know it pisses me off.”

“What, dear?” Root throws several of those transparent soaps with little figures inside them into the cart. Shaw lets her keep them and Root grins to herself.

“I’m hungry,” Shaw says.

“There’s a steakhouse a block from here,” Root says. “And a hamburger joint just down the road.”

“Well, _finally_ we get something useful out of that machine,” Shaw says and catches Root’s wrist when she reaches for a fuzzy turquoise blanket.

Root leans forward. “I’ll get you a cabinet for your guns,” she whisper sensuously into her ear.

Shaw twists away, releasing her wrist and wiping at her ear with her other hand. “Fine.”

 

It’s a three-bedroom apartment, and Root picked one bedroom to use as her office and offered the other two to Shaw.

“This is where I’ll keep my weapons and work out,” Shaw had said and dropped a heavy bag to the floor with a telltale clatter. “We’ll sleep in there,” she’d added, pointing to the remaining room.

They’ve technically never shared a bed before – Shaw never did stay the night when they fucked. The first night they sleep together in their apartment, Shaw draws Root to her until they’re spooning, tells her to shut up, and falls promptly asleep. It’s nice.

In the morning, Root wakes with Shaw’s face buried between her legs, two fingers already knuckle-deep inside of her. Shaw's hair has been pulled into a messy ponytail because, Root thinks, her girl is nothing if not pragmatic. After that she isn’t really able to think much at all and it’s only a few, short minutes before she comes hard and very vocally, muscles locking and shuddering with the power of her orgasm.

Shaw lets her ride it out, teasing her all the while with slow, soft laps of her tongue, before she lifts her head and wipes her shining mouth on her shoulder. Says, “You’ve lost your edge. I’ve been down there forever and you just slept on,” in a satisfied voice that sends something red-hot pulsing deep in Root’s stomach.

Shaw crawls up Root’s body, and Root reaches up to kiss her, but Shaw pushes her back down. “Stay where you are,” she says before she leans sideways to open the nightstand drawer. She has to lift one leg and straddle Root’s thigh to do it and Root groans as she feel how wet Shaw is, feels her grinding down against her, so ready to take whatever she want from Root for her own pleasure.

Root can’t help put press her leg upward in response, to draw it slowly against Shaw and close her eyes at the sensation of her warm, wet cunt against her skin. “Did you wake dripping or did eating me out make you this horny, sweetie?” she asks breathlessly.

Shaw doesn’t reply. Root opens her eyes again to watch as she pulls a harness and a thick, shiny black dildo out of the drawer. She gets terribly distracted by the cut of muscle in Shaw’s back and upper arms as they flex with her controlled movements and the way her breasts bounce lightly as she shuffles back between Root’s legs.

“Lift your fucking hips,” Shaw says, hands already firm and impatient against Root’s hips to lift them as she snaps the harness in place. She’s breathing deeply, a flush spreading across her face and upper chest and she’s so beautiful, so fucking hot, that Root goes a little crazy from it. She groans and strains against it for some friction as Shaw treads the dildo through the ring. Shaw grins at her and pushes it down against her clit roughly, making her whimper.

Shaw moves upward again to grab lube from the nightstand and this time she leans down and takes Root’s mouth in a savage kiss.

It’s a while before she sits back to straddle Root’s hips, reaching behind her to slather the dick with lube. She carelessly drops the bottle on the bed and reaches up on her knees, running her wet hand down Root’s stomach to grab hold of the dildo again.

It’s all Root can do to just lie there and stare up at her, her strong thighs, her enticing breasts and hardened rosebud nipples, the triangle of dark hair between her legs, her hips. She watches entranced as Shaw sits down, taking the dildo inside of her with one smooth, quick movement and a deep groan, her head thrown back. She’s wet enough it goes with out a hitch and with her hips flush against Root’s, she starts to shift on the dick. Root moves minutely, pushing her hips upward to meet her until the dildo is completely sheathed inside of her. She loves this, the first few seconds of penetrating Shaw, when it’s just a little too much for her to handle. She is panting, moving in small, restless movements to accommodate the width inside of her. Sweat gleams along her collarbones and the top of her breasts and Root wants nothing more than to taste it, but knows to wait until Shaw allows it.

After a few more seconds of adjustment, Shaw plants a hand in the middle of Root’s chest and starts to move, riding Root roughly with her eyes squeezed closed and her breath hissing through clenched teeth. It makes Root so fucking horny, Shaw just _using_ her like this, lost in ecstasy, but she forces herself to keep still, even if she just want to shove up inside her, to get some friction and watch as Shaw falls completely apart.

“Fuck!” Shaw arches her back, pounds down harder against her. Root’s pulse thrum in her ears with the rhythm of it, her eyes tracking the movement of Shaw’s breasts, the flexing of her abs, the way the dick strapped to her own hips move in and out of her with every thrust, gleaming milky-white with evidence of Shaw’s arousal. Root groans.

She reaches up to trace a hand along Shaw’s side, but it gets slapped it away. Root lets it settle against her ass instead and that she accepts. _God_ , her ass. Root is moaning out loud by now, helpless to do anything but move against Shaw, but Shaw doesn’t seem to mind. She only swears louder as Root pushes up inside her, clamps her thighs around her hips and rides her harder in response. Shaw likes feeling their fucking for days afterward and Root is happy to oblige.

Out of nowhere, Shaw grasps her shoulder and hauls her up into a messy kiss, choking out a rough sound at the feel of Root getting even deeper inside her. Just as abruptly she pushes Root back down and climbs right off. She stretches out on her back with her head at the foot of the bed, instead, and spreads her legs, her cunt gleaming wetly between them.

“You waiting for something?” she says flatly, and Root just smiles.

She grabs two pillows on the way and shoves them under Shaw, whose predictable eye-roll dissolves into a deep groan as Root enters her again with a hard shove. She winds one arm around Root’s neck, nails digging in with delicious pressure, and Root bends down to kiss her shoulder and bicep, any skin she can reach, the muscles firm and tense under her lips, as she fucks into her with abandon. Shaw shoves her other hand down between her legs to work at her clit and it’s only a few hard thrusts later that she seizes up, bites down hard on Root’s shoulder, muffling a stream of moans and expletives, and comes like a freight train.

Root fucks her through it and keeps fucking her even as she relaxes back against the pillows, fucks her until her face is all screwed up and she’s all but non-verbal and she feels the hot rush of wetness against her groin as Shaw’s second orgasm hits.

“ _Baby_ ,” Root murmurs and bends down to kiss Shaw’s lax mouth. She doesn’t return the kiss, but caresses Root’s back with soft fingertips as she slowly comes down. They lay like that for a few, wonderful minutes until Roots draws back, pulls out of Shaw and falls to the bed with her head against the headboard, hips and shoulder aching in the best kind of way.

Shaw wipes herself down with the sheet and gets up on shaky legs to head into the shower, Root resting her head on her hand to watch her shapely ass as she goes.

 

“Sameen, dear, would you set the table?” Root calls from where she’s standing frying steaks at the stove. All she gets in reply is a heavy groan, followed by the sound of porcelain being carelessly handled.

“There’s one plate too much,” Shaw calls.

“It’s for Bear!”

Root pokes at the steaks. She lifts one to see if the other side is still red, but drops it. It splashes down in the butter, sending hot drops of it flying, and makes her yelp.

“God.” Shaw pushes her out of the way. “Can talk with a supercomputer and play sniper while driving a get-away car with one heel but can’t cook for shit.”

“Well, that’s what I have you for,” Root says and leans forward to kiss her cheek.

“I’ll just give the burnt one to Reese,” Shaw says.

 

Predictably, Bear enjoys his steak – John less so.

“You’ve made a lovely home,” Finch says as they dig into the food. “It’s so nice to see the two of you settling into calm, normal lives, ladies.”

Root grins at the face Shaw makes at that comment while chewing messily on the huge bite of steak she’s already shoved in her mouth.

“Yes, we do try to keep the guns locked away,” Root quips.

Fusco just sighs and shakes his head. “It’s giving me the creeps, you two playing home,” he says and cuts up a piece of his meat. Halfway through taking a bite, he seems to reconsider. “You make this, Cocoa Puffs?”

“I tried,” Root says, cutting her steak delicately. “But Shaw had to butt in and save the day.” She gives her a fond look, but Shaw is too busy downing her glass of whiskey to notice.

That doesn’t seem to reassure Fusco in the slightest, but he does take a bite and looks surprised for a second before nodding appreciatively. “Not half-bad. You’ve got a good one there, Cocoa Puffs.”

Shaw sends him a murderous look across the table and skewers another piece of steak on her fork, rolling her eyes with her mouth stuffed full as Root gives her a saccharine smile and sweetly says, “I know.”

 

It’s not always easy, but they make it work. The Machine still gives them numbers, but with Samaritan out of the way and with the Machine recruiting every chance it gets, the stretches between them are long enough for their lives to grow a little bit dull and Shaw restless. She works most of it off by sex and target practice, and the rest through heavy nighttime workouts.

Root loves watching her – she always does, really, no matter what Shaw is actually _doing_ – and sometimes Shaw lets her and sometimes it just irks her.

Tonight she grunts, “Spot me or leave” and drags a dingy towel across her flushed and sweaty face. Roots steps fully into the room, and soon finds herself on her knees behind Shaw on the bench doing dumbbell presses with her hands resting just next to her arms, ready to help catch the weight if Shaw should falter.

She behaves for three full sets before the sight of Shaw, sweaty and straining, breast heaving with every upward push, gets the better of her and she bends down to kiss Shaw’s forehead, lick at the sweat gathered there.

Shaw growls, pushes the dumbbells up again.

Root bends further down, whispers wetly into her ear, “Want me to give you a real workout, Sameen?”

Shaw, with her eyes fixed on the ceiling, does two more reps – _nine_ , _ten_ – before dropping both dumbbells to the floor with a dull thud. She inhales sharply through her nose, nostrils flaring. “You sure as hell know how to get under my skin, Root.”

“Mhm,” Roots mumbles, entranced by Shaw’s sweaty scent, her gleaming skin. She wants to lick her all over.

She kisses her full on the mouth, upside-down, and Shaw’s grabs on to the back of her head, pressing her down to deepen it. She kisses Root until her head swims from in, until her cunt throbs and she is gasping, lost in Shaw. Then she pushes her upward and nips sharply at her mouth, making Root’s eyes flutter shut. She tries to delve down into another kiss, but Shaw’s hand holds her steadily back.

“I’m not done yet,” Shaw says firmly, and when Root opens her eyes, Shaw’s monotone voice is betrayed by a roguish half-smile hiding in the corner of her mouth. “Go to bed. I’ll be there when I’m done.”

“Fine.” Root stands up, unbuttoning her jeans as she goes, enjoying the feel of Shaw’s intent gaze like a literal weight on her. “Don’t be too long, sweetie, or I might just finish without you.”

 

For Shaw, having an apartment means having a stable place to sleep, eat and keep her stuff. For Root, the apartment means truly belonging somewhere for the first time in her life. She has done that for a while now, of course, but this is the first time she does it in a place that is really _hers_. Her and Shaw’s.

She puts plants that Shaw swears she will never water in her life in windows and on tables. She adds the lava lamp to their bedroom. She buys a thick, lovely carpet for their living room. She gets Shaw to help her assemble bookshelves from IKEA and Shaw labors over the incomprehensible instructions for several hours, refusing to admit defeat. “Shouldn’t you be one of those people who prefers e-books, you geek?” she complains loudly at some point. Root enjoys watching her work in her tight black tank top so it takes a while until she forces Shaw to accept some help from the Machine.

It doesn’t make her any less surly. “Stupid robot overlord,” she mutters to herself while winding the screws with excessive aggressiveness.

 

That night when they go to bed and turn off the lights, Shaw turns onto her back, gets a glimpse of the ceiling, and flatly says, “What the fuck.”

Root smiles and rests her head against Shaw’s shoulder. “Pretty, aren’t they?” She’s put up plastic glow-in-the-dark stars all over their ceiling and they shine dully lime-green in their darkened bedroom, forming incomprehensible constellations.

Shaw just stares. “It’s plastic crap. Plastic crap for _kids_.”

“Looking up at the night sky always reminds me of the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics,” Root says. “It’s comforting.”

“Oh god,” Shaw mutters.

“Just imagine,” Root continues, unperturbed, “if the hypothesis is correct, it means that all possible alternate histories and futures are real, all in their own worlds. And that would mean that there is an infinite number of universes and everything that could possibly have happened in our past, but didn’t, has occurred in the past of some other universe or universes. That’s what I like about it.”

Shaw is quiet for a long moment. Then, with her eyes still roaming across Root’s made-up star map, she slowly says, “Do you think that there is a universe out there where we… are a regular couple? Where we worked out all romantically and properly and got some sort of fairytale ending?” _Is that what comforts you_? she doesn’t ask, but might as well have.

For a second, Root is at a loss for words, Shaw’s question making her heart clench painfully in her chest at the thought that she doesn’t know that Root loves her with all her being exactly the way she is and wouldn’t want to be loved any different than the way Shaw already loves her in return. Instead of saying that, she takes a deep breath and threads their fingers together. Carefully she asks, “What makes you think this is not our fairytale ending, sweetheart?”

She feels Shaw shrug against her.

Root shuffles a little closer, squeezes her hand. “You is the only version of you I want, darlin’,” she says softly. “I just need to believe that if anything would ever happen to us, there will be other versions of you and me out there, together and alive. Happy.” She brings Shaw’s hand to her face, kisses her knuckles. “Besides,” she adds, “I’ve always found fairytale endings overrated. I always did prefer the wolves and the wicked girls, you know.”

Even in the dark, Shaw catches Root’s mischievous smile and beneath those silly, ugly-as-shit plastic stars, she reaches over and kisses her.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://wariangle.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
